Two Sides Of The Same Coin - Heads
by Scription Addict
Summary: Grace has been through a tough time, can Boyd help her through it, and will she ever learn to trust again.


**Two sides of the same coin – Heads**

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**Hi all, this is the first thing I have managed to write/complete in about a year, so please be gentle with me. This is the first of two fics I am writing that although not part of the same story, are connected, I will try to get the next one up ASAP. I hope you enjoy it, it's dedicated to all my lovely WTD friends.**

**Boyd/Grace**

**Disclaimer – I own nothing**

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He can still picture her, looking like a lost and frightened child sat on the edge of a hospital stretcher, her eye blackened, her lip cut and swollen, and her ribs seriously bruised. It was the pain from the ribs that had brought her to hospital, the other injuries were minor, but the agony of trying to breath had forced her to give into his constant nagging and go to the hospital. She'd been x-rayed and the results showed no broken bones, just bruising to her ribs and a battering to her confidence.

It made him sick to his stomach, the mere thought of any man hitting a woman caused the bile to rise into his throat, but to hit her, to raise his fists and strike her, it made him shake with rage. He daren't even think about what he would do if he came face to face with him now, fortunately her neighbors had called the local police and they had thrown him in a cell for the night, so he had no chance of coming face to face with him that night, although her insistence that she would not press charges meant he'd be released when he sobered up, and he prayed for both their sakes that they would not meet.

Painkillers in hand they left the hospital in an eerie silence, neither of them knowing what to say. She felt an overwhelming desire to apologies, to make excuses for the sorry specimen who had, not for the first time, beat her, but she knew how pathetic it would make her sound so she stayed silent. He wanted to tell her he was sorry, sorry he had allowed it to happen, sorry he had ignored the occasional bruise he'd seen on her arm, the sprained wrist that appeared from nowhere, and even the bruised cheek that now seemed such an obvious sign, but he had believed her excuses, never gave it a second thought that the clever and confident woman he had adored from afar for so long could be the victim of such a hideous, yet silent crime.

That night had seemed like yesterday, she'd played it over and over in her mind, had she provoked him, said something to anger him, brought in on herself, all the things she would have dismissed so readily had she been counseling a victim of domestic abuse, but this time she was the victim. It was five months ago now, and still she lived the nightmare every day and night, waking in a cold sweat as he reappeared in her dreams, hands raised, face contorted with rage and anger, all of which were focused at her. She'd become a victim and she hated it, hated the way he had made her feel, not just physically but mentally, the constant digs about her appearance, the insistent jealousy over her friendship with the man she worked alongside day in and day out, he even criticized the one thing she held above all else, the thing that she never doubted, her ability to do her job.

He'd called her pathetic, stupid to ever think that a man like Boyd would be interested in her, he was several years her junior, and in his cruel words, she was nothing but a dried up old woman who no one would look twice at, if only he knew how it made her feel every time he'd ripped her apart, what it had done to every ounce of self-respect and confidence she'd ever had. If she told the truth the physical beating was easy to take, cover up the bruises, tell the occasional lie now and then to excuse the ones that she couldn't cover up and in time they would heal, but the mental cruelty was different, it had penetrated her very soul, slowly but surely wearing her down, now she felt at her lowest ebb, no words could take back what had been said, they were ingrained on her brain as if they'd been put there with a hammer and chisel.

Now five months later the hands that touched her skin were not doing so in anger, but in a gentle affectionate manner. He had spent those five months trying to convince her that she was none of the things he had said, that she was beautiful, intelligent, funny and loving, but they were just words, words that were as easy to say as those said in anger, just not as easy to believe. After a bottle of wine and an evening discussing a case she had once again found herself snuggled up next to him on his large luxurious sofa, the arm that had lazily stretched out along the back of the sofa was now stretched around her shoulders, holding her to his side, her head resting gently on his shoulder.

She stretched her arms and sat forward, immediately grabbing her neck as pain shot through it.

"What is it?" He asked, his genuine concern clear in his voice.

"Oh, it's nothing; I just woke up with a stiff neck."

"Come here."

"No, it's fine, honest."

"Just relax will you." He said, his voice as firm as the hands that began to knead the soft skin on her neck, his thumbs working into the taut muscles to relieve the pressure. She groaned softly as his fingers squeezed through the pain. "Better?"

"Mmm." Was all she could manage, her senses heightened by every touch. She suddenly panicked as his soft lips suddenly caressed the back of her neck. "What the hell are you doing?" She snapped as she pulled away from him and stood up.

"I thought…" he started.

"Oh I know what you thought."

"Grace calm down, it was just a kiss; I thought you wanted me to."

"And what gave you the impression that I wanted that?"

"We've been getting closer I just thought you wanted the same thing as me."

"Oh, so all the tea and sympathy was just a ploy to get me into bed was it?"

"No, not at all, Grace I never meant to over step the mark."

"Well you have, well and truly." She grabbed her phone and headed to his hallway, closely followed by him.

"Grace wait, please don't walk out like this."

"I need to go." She said hurriedly grabbing her coat, her hands shaking as she tried to fasten the buttons.

He gently placed his hand over hers, trying to steady her shaking, his other hand reached up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear, but she flinched, and that hurts him. "Grace?"

"Leave it Boyd." She pulled away from him.

"Please don't tell me you think I'd hurt you."

"I don't know what to think, Ok."

"Grace I would never, could never hurt you."

"Murray said that once."

"But I'm not Murray."

"I need to go." She moved away from him.

"Stay? Please?" She didn't answer him; she just looked at the door. "Talk to me Grace."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"I'd say there's a lot to talk about."

"Such as?"

"Such as why you feel the need to run away from me."

"I'm not running away."

"It feels like you are." She stayed silent. "I know what he did to you."

"You know nothing." She replied.

He placed his hand on her face. "I know he took away every ounce of self-respect you ever had, he left you a shadow of the woman you were."

"That's right Boyd, I'm just a sad battered old woman, so why don't you leave me with the last bit of dignity I've got, and let me walk away."

"I can't let you walk away, I care too much, and I want to help you."

"I don't need your help, and I sure as hell don't need your pity."

"You think this is about pity?"

"What else is it about?"

"It's about a hell of a lot more than that, I care about you, and I'm just sorry I never noticed what was happening to you."

"Oh you're sorry, well if it eases your conscience Boyd I forgive you."

"Why the hell are you being like this?"

"Like what? The sad and bitter old woman that I am."

"Is that what he told you? Is that what he did Grace? Called you every name under the sun until you believed every word, ground you down with insults to make himself feel better about the fact that he never deserved you, that he could never match up to you."

"If it makes you feel better to think that, then you carry on."

"If it wasn't that then what? What did he say to make you so bloody insecure?"

"Why is it so important to you to know what he said?"

"Because whatever it is, it haunts you. I can see it in your eyes when you look at me, when we get too close and you realise my arms are holding you as we sit in a comfortable silence. What did he say that stops you from being with me?"

"You're so sure of yourself aren't you? So sure it's you I want to be with."

"Whether you want to be with me or not, and for the record I think you do, you need to get over this and get on with your life." He sighed loudly and ran his hand through his hair before he continued. "You're an amazing person and you can't spend the rest of your life alone because some pathetic excuse for a man took his own insecurities out on you with his fists."

"That's the Boyd recovery method is it? Pick yourself up, brush yourself down and get on with it!"

"I know its not that easy, and I never suggested it would be." He sighed loudly again. "Why can't you see that all I want to do is look after you and help you through this?"

"Because life isn't that straight forward."

"It could be."

"No it couldn't."

"Stay and talk to me, please?"

"There really is nothing left to say, I can't do this."

"Tell me what he did?"

"I don't want to talk about it, not to you, not to anybody."

"Why? What's so bad that you can't tell me?"

"I didn't say I couldn't, I said I don't want to, there is a difference."

"So why don't you want to?"

"Because it was you okay, it was always you."

"What do you mean it was me? What was me?"

"Everything."

"You're not making any bloody sense Grace, what the hell has this got to do with me?"

"He was jealous of you."

"Why was he jealous of me?"

"Because he convinced himself that I was in love with you."

"He hit you because he thought you were in love with me."

"Yes, he hit me because he thought I was in love with you! Every argument started because of you, every text or call was us arranging to meet, if you drove me home we'd been to a hotel or at it in the car, if we worked late we'd been screwing in the office, I lived with the constant fear of my phone going off, or you knocking at the door, because I knew once you'd ended the call or left that all hell would break loose."

"He thought we were having an affair?"

"He thought I was having an affair with every man I laid eyes on, but yes, especially you."

"So every time I got in contact with you I made it worse. Why didn't you tell me?" His voice was soft and low.

"Because I was ashamed." She replied, her eyes fixed firmly on the wall, unable to bring herself to look at him.

"You had nothing to be ashamed of."

"It didn't feel like it at the time, I felt such a fool, I was living in the kind of environment that we see in other people's lives, not our own. How could I look at you or Spence and tell you that the man I thought I loved was a sadistic, controlling and jealous monster. He made me feel so..." She sighed and shook her head before continuing. "Pathetic I guess."

"Grace you are not to blame for what he did."

"Aren't I?"

"No, and you know that as well as I do."

"Then why am I finding it so hard to convince myself of that fact."

"Because he ground you down, he left you feeling guilty for something that you were not responsible for, that's what control freaks like him do. Why the hell didn't you leave him sooner?"

"I couldn't."

"Why?"

"Because I had a guilty conscience."

"What on earth did you have to feel guilty about? You were a victim, you weren't to blame."

"But he was right."

"About what?"

"About me being in love with you." She still couldn't look at him.

"What?"

"I said, about me being in love with you."

"You were in love with me?" He said, almost afraid he had mis-heard.

"I've always been in love with you." She sniffed and discreetly wiped away a stray tear that trickled slowly down her face, before turning and walking back into his lounge.

"But...but you never said, why wouldn't you tell me something like that?" He replied following her.

"Because I knew you didn't feel the same way, what would have been the point in telling you? You would have knocked me back and I'd have been left feeling humiliated."

"How did you know?"

"What?"

"How did you know that I didn't feel the same?"

"I just did, you've never given me any indication that you feel that way about me."

"Well you've never given me any indication of your feelings, but you say you're in love with me."

"I said I **_was _**in love with you."

"So you're not in love with me now?"

Grace turned to leave again, "I'm too old for all this Boyd, that part of my life is over."

"Where are you going?"

"Home, I'm tired, and as we have already discovered, I have a stiff neck that is killing me."

"You can't walk out now."

"I can do whatever I want." She snapped back at him.

"Yeah okay bad choice of words, of course you can leave, what I meant was that it would be very unfair of you to make a comment like that and then walk away and leave me wondering what might have been."

"There's nothing more to say Boyd, I don't want a man in my life, not now, not in the future, I am content with my life as it is."

"So as well as him beating you, belittling you, destroying your confidence and doing or saying god knows what else to you, you are going to let him destroy any future chance of happiness you might have."

"It's not about him, it's about me! It's about what I want, or in this case what I don't want." She grimaced as a sharp pain shot through her neck.

"What's wrong, you okay."

"Yes, it's just my bloody neck, I can't move it, it's gone into spasm."

"Do you want me to take you to the hospital?"

"No, it'll be fine, I just want to go home." She replied trying to ease the pain by rubbing it.

"Here let me do that."

"No leave it will you."

He ignored her persistent complaints and replaced her hand with his own, firmly trying to loosen the tightened muscles that were causing her so much discomfort. He put his hands on the side of her head and gently began to rotate it whilst his thumbs continuously rubbed her neck. "Any better?"

"A little, thank you."

He rested his hands on her shoulders, leant forward and whispered in her ear. "Healing hands Grace." She didn't answer, but she didn't move either. "Maybe I should place them on your heart."

"My heart is fine."

"Let me help you through this?"

"There's nothing to get through, I'm fine, I'm just too long in the tooth for all this romantic seduction bullshit."

"Take a chance Grace."

"What, on you?"

"No not on me, on us."

"I can't, I've told you I don't want another man in my life."

"You also told me you were in love with me, and I know that I'm in love with you, surely that fact alone means we should explore the possibilities."

"I can't, not again."

"You can't what?"

"Trust someone, give my heart to someone, bare my very soul to someone who will one day throw it all back in my face."

"We can work through it."

"I don't want to work through it, I want to know that no matter who I look at or talk to, that no one is going to hurt me again."

"But you know I'd never hurt you."

"I don't know anything any more." She replied, the emotion and insecurity evident in her voice. "I always thought I was strong enough to deal with something like this, thought I'd walk away if a man ever raised his hand to me, but I wasn't strong enough, I let him torture me over and over again, and I kept going back for more."

Boyd walked around and stood in front of her, his hand now resting on the side of her neck, whilst his thumb tenderly stroked her face. "Why did you stay?"

"I was afraid."

"Of what he'd do if he found you?"

"No, I was afraid of what people would think, of starting out on my own again, of everyone finding out what he'd done, of everyone knowing what a pathetic failure I was."

"You're not a failure Grace, and you're certainly not pathetic, you were a victim of a hideous crime perpetrated by a pathetic little excuse for a man, but it doesn't mean you can't be happy again." He moved his hand slightly and gently traced her lower lip with his thumb, she shivered slightly.

"Stop it." She whispered. "Please?" She almost pleaded with him.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want this."

"I'll make a deal with you, you give me an honest answer to my next question, and I'll stop, if that's what you want."

"It is what I want."

"So we have a deal?"

"Okay."

"Do you have any feelings for me, other than those of a friend and colleague?"

"That's not a fair question." She replied, again turning away from him.

"Why are you running away?"

"Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Because I care for you, and I think you care for me. So do I get an answer?"

"I can't answer you."

He put his hand on her arm to prevent her from walking away from him. "Stop running Grace, because if you don't stop, you're going to be running for ever more."

"I don't know what else to do."

"You're an educated and intelligent woman, you know exactly what to do. So?"

"You know damn well I have feelings for you, I just can't act on them, not any more."

"Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"I'm asking you if you trust me, we've known each other over a decade and in that time I don't think I have ever done anything to cause you not to trust me, so I'll ask you again, do you trust me?"

"I don't trust anyone, not now."

"Not even me?" He lowered the hand that was still holding on to her arm so that it was now holding her hand.

"I just don't know."

"Okay, let me change the question slightly. I'm not asking you if you trust me, I am asking you _**to**_ trust me."

"Why do I need to trust you?"

"Because I'm going to kiss you, and I'd rather not get my face slapped." Before she could say a word he stepped into her space and kissed her, slowly, gently and without hesitation, he pulled away slowly. "Well you haven't hit me yet, that's got to be a good sign." He smiled at her.

"What does that achieve Boyd? Are you under some illusion that one kiss from you and I'll forget everything that's happened and skip off into the sunset with you?"

"No, not at all, as hard as it is to believe, I am really not that shallow."

"Really?"

"Yes really. I know it will take time, I am not expecting you to declare your undying love for me, but we could have a future together, a_** happy**_ future together, and I think if there's even the tiniest little scrap of hope that this could work, then we should grab hold of it with both hands and not let go."

"And what if it doesn't work?"

"Look Grace I'm not a fortune-teller, I can't guarantee that it will all work out, no more than you can. We may decide that we're great friends but that's it, or we may decide that we're soul mates that will be together for the rest of our days. None of us know what will happen, but I'll promise you three things. One, I will never physically hurt you, or do anything you don't want me to. Two, I will always be open and honest with you. And Three, we'll take this at your pace, if you want a long old-fashioned courtship with all the romantic meals and roses you can handle, then that's what we'll have. On the other hand if you feel the urge to rip my clothes off and have you're wicked way with me here on the sofa, I won't complain."

He felt her hand relax and her thumb gently rub over the back of his hand. "I'm scared Boyd."

"I know you are, but it will get easier."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

_**The End**_

_**Please look out for Two Sides of the Same Coin - Tails, coming soon.**_


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